Sabaku no Potter
by Chibi-Reaper
Summary: Something intervenes to grant baby Harry a better home... well, happier anyway. Kinda. Harry Potter, Shinobi. Of Suna.
1. Chapter 1

Sabaku no Potter

xxx

Pain screamed through her body as her husband applied seal after torturous seal to her round stomach, four elite ANBU holding her down to keep her thrashes to a minimum, so as not to distrupt the careful process. A fifth was standing slightly further away, a large iron kettle covered with ancient wards... slowly but obviously failing to the trained eye.

"Why?" She whimpered, tears streaming heavily down her face. "Why... are you doing this?"

The Kazekage formed a handseal and burned another seal into her stomach before he stepped back, panting from effort, to inspect his work. His mask easily disguised whatever small traces of emotion he may have felt as he looked down at his wife.

"This... is necessary. We have a longstanding alliance with Konohagakure of Fire country, but that alliance is slowly killing our village. The Daimyo of Wind has cut our funding, and sends the most profitable jobs to Konoha, leaving us with more dangerous missions while we are paid less. More and more of our Shinobi die every year... its true that the ones who survive generally grow to become much more powerful than average, but our forces are currently at less than half any other of the greater villages. When war breaks out again, sheer numbers would overthrow us. Also, while Konoha has recently lost a great deal of their forces in the Kyuubi's assault, they still recieve all of the best missions that should go to us! People are abandoning the village because of our lack of funding, and that makes us look even weaker... and as the finale of the Leaf's battle with the demon fox, they sealed it away in a human. They have created a weapon beyond measure by doing so... To save our village, we need money. For money, we take missions. To convince the Daimyo to send the missions we need to us, we must prove, beyond a doubt, that we are stronger than the leaf. What better way than war, to crush their village? As of now, our ranks can easily match theirs, but the battles would be long and difficult. Their Jinchuuriki also, would be a deadly trump card. We aren't ready yet... Not without a weapon of our own to match theirs."

He motioned the Shinobi holding the kettle over and began forming handseals as he continued the process, paying no heed to the agonizing screams. The pain made it extremely difficult to even think, but the pain lulled for a moment, as the Kazekage turned to take the kettle from the heavily sweating man beside him. In that instant, though her voice was raw and barely usable from screaming, and it choked off into a nearly unrecognizable gurgle, she managed to give voice to a coherent thought. A plea to the heavens, that her child be watched over after she died... for she knew full well that this process was killing her, and she didn't trust her husband to raise the child on his own. Her dearest wish, at that moment, was for her child to be protected.

Somewhere, something was listening closely.

xxx

"Albus... are you sure about this? I've spent the day watching them... these people are Muggles of the worst kind! The father is a fat, grumpy old man, the mother is henpecked and overworked, and the child is spoiled beyond belief! Just this morning, I saw him kicking his mother and wailing for sweets as they walked outside, and..."

"And they are also his only family, Minerva. I have faith that they will raise him properly, without spoiling him the way a magical family would. Also, once they take him in powerful blood magic defences will be erected against... those elements in our world that would seek to do him harm. This is what must be done, for the boy's sake."

After his impassioned speech, Mcgonagall couldn't help but pause and nod with a sigh. She may not like it, but this did seem to be the only reasonable course of action. She had seen the list of people who wanted to adopt the boy... perhaps a third of them were not affiliated to the Death Eaters in any way. She would hate to see what would happen should he be raised in such a household... if indeed they saw fit to raise him and not to implement a 'tragic accident'. Dumbledore set the sleeping bundle on the doorstep and they left, pausing only momentarily to withdraw a small, shiny object from his voluminous robes and use it to return light to the street's lampposts. Then he left.

After a moment, there was a small scuffling noise as a rather large dog scuffled over the small fence surrounding Number 4, Privet Drive. It was hungry... every so often it would find scraps left behind, half-eaten sandwiches and the like, but as it wandered into this area the pickings had slimmed down considerably. It had eventually given up begging for its food and resorted to hunting things... rodents, cats, and smaller dogs. Unfortunately, there weren't many of those to go aroune either... soon, it would move on... either towards a bigger city, where discarded food was more plentiful, or into the wilderness where the hunting was. But first, it wanted to find a meal to tide it over the long trip.

It stepped forward and gave the bundle on the porch a light sniff... then its mouth opened and its tongue lolled out, eyes glinting with its hunger.

This might have ended very badly for the child, except that as the feral dog lunged for the kill, a soft glow settled around the child and lashed out at it, opening a large gash on the dog's side that spurted blood. The dog yelped in pain and darted away, leaping over the fence. It would begin its trek tonight, on an empty stomach, something in the back of its limited brain telling it to leave the area immediately.

The glow gathered itself together around the infant, seeming to condense into a tiny fogbank... then it and the child dissappeared, leaving only a crumpled, slighly torn letter to drop next to the small dribbles of blood leading away.

In the morning, two screams rang out. One when Petunia curiously picked the letter off her front porch, and one later when she took the absence of the child, the trail of blood, and the huge stray that had been spotted lurking around recently, and added the facts together to their logical conclusion. The freaks would be very upset if they found out something like this had happened... there was a hurried, whispered conversation between her and Vernon, and at work he requested a transfer to America. Within a week, there was a For Sale sign on Number 4's lawn... within another, a new family had moved in... strangely enough, they were very similar to the Dursleys. The father was overweight, and worked for a company that sold lawn tools. The mother was thin, and dealt with all the housework. Their son took after the father and was rather plump... and the second son had messy black hair and green eyes that were only a few shades off from Harry's. From a distance, it would appear to the average observer that the Dursleys had only left the house for a few days... This was helped in the fact that the family was somewhat antisocial, just like the Dursleys, and didn't go out of their way to meet the new neighbors.

It was a little over a month later that one Arabella Figg moved into an empty house down the street, at the special request of Dumbledore...

xxx

At this point, the Kazekage had finally begun to question whether this had been the wisest course of action after all. For the most part, things had gone according to plan. They had managed to seal the demon into the unborn child, and the shock and pain running through the mother's body had triggered a somewhat premature birth... as he had expected. The dying mother managing to muster the strength to name her son and curse them all with painful, premature, bloody deaths was unexpected, but easily ignorable.

Then the infant had begun to scream, and the very sands of the desert had burst into the room, creating a miniature sandstorm in the room as, one by one, the abrasive sands tore the flesh from his five assisstant's bones. He had managed to escape with only minor wounds, and was now staring in awe as the localized sandstorm tore the building to shreds, hurling large chunks away. Very little of the framework of the first floor remained... everything else was gone... and as he peered closely into the raging sands he could almost see it. The outline of the demon Tanuki, Shukaku. He shivered, wondering if he had made a mistake... if perhaps he should have practiced his sealing by transferring the demon into another kettle with fresh wards before attempting something like this... no, he would not second guess himself now. It was far too late for that... and if the demon had been released then it didn't matter anyway, because he was a dead man.

He squinted as he looked back into the sandstorm, at the vague, indistinct shape within. It was... staring at something? Yes, it was definitely focusing all its attention on something... directly above? Unable to stop his curiosity, he angled his head to look up as well... nothing. Just the starry night sky...

His eyes narrowed. The sky... that star... he'd never seen it before, and all Suna-nin were required to be able to navigate by the stars, because the face of the desert was constantly changing. This star was new... and odd. As he stared at it, it seemed to get larger... he turned away for a few moments and then looked back to compare... yes, definitely larger... or closer. The image of the Shukaku seemed to be snarling now, and the sands whipped about ever more violently... he frowned under his mask, recalling that the mother had murmured indistinct things under her breath throughout the operation... was this her doing, perhaps? He mentally shook himself at the thought. Ridiculous. What jutsu could possibly have an effect like this? But he could think of nothing else to explain it...

The star had swollen to the size of a small boulder by now, and he was idly debating whether or not to run... he'd had the privilenge, in his youth, to see the extremely rare phenomena of a stone falling from the sky at tremendous speeds. The stone itself had not been very large, perhaps the size of a small melon, but it had created a very impressive crater in the desert sands. Had it struck in the village, there would have been hundreds of deaths, at least. He had spent several years trying to replicate the effect with a jutsu, before giving up. While he had eventually found it possible to duplicate the natural disaster, the strain on his chakra was enormous for far too little effect. The strain would have killed him, had he not had multiple soldier pills on hand. He'd swallowed half a dozen, and he was still bedridden for months afterwards. Now, if he had to guess, he could perform the jutsu with only a single soldier pill, but it would leave him weak and incabable of motion for several hours... a sitting duck. He'd added it to the village's scroll of forbidden jutsu, as was his obligation as Kage, and made a sidenote that the time it took for the technique to take effect, almost a full minute... an eternity in fast paced ninja battles, made it all but useless except for perhaps causing widespread destruction in an enemy village, or singlehandedly destroying a boss summon that wasn't particularly agile. Hmm... now that he thought about it, that might work almost as well as the jinchuuriki plan... why hadn't he thought about that before? He shook himself out of thought as the sands doubled in fury.

This did not seem at all like that event. Rather than falling swiftly, the glowing object was drifting gently downwards. All thought processes stopped, however, when the image of Shukaku directed his deadly sands at the sphere of light... and they fell limply away, collapsing to the ground. Silently roaring in fury, an odd sight, it directed more and more sand at the sphere... but the best it could do was to slow it down as it continued to drift to earth. It was fascinating to watch. Mere moments later, it had reached the false-Shukaku itself... and forcing it to slowly melt back into inanimate sand. The sphere settled in the buildings remains, glow fading swiftly... and the Kazekage heard the unmistakeable sound of a baby crying... joined swiftly by a second.

He darted into the ruined building and stared in shock. Right next to the redheaded infant he'd sealed a demon into, lay a slightly older child with black hair and piercing green eyes... and a small, jagged scar on his brow. The sand around them was still swirling ominously, but no more than a light wind might blow them. The cries had slowly come to a stop as the elder child cuddled into the younger and fell asleep... the younger was just staring curiously around, dark circles around his eyes giving him a look similar to a baby raccoon.

"... Gaara it is then... and who might you be?"

Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping infant, he worked the tattered blanket out of his grip and frowned at the name stitched into the fabric. It was in a tongue from outside world, and a name he recognized well. His uncle had managed to leave the continent of the hidden countries, and had, after a few years of wandering, married and ceased all contact soon thereafter. All that they had managed to find out was that he'd apparently had a son, and was alive and well but refused to answer any mail from them. Naturally they'd placed him in the Bingo book as a Nukenin, but it didn't matter because nobody would go through the strenuous experience of leaving the continent to just track down one person. This child would logically be his uncle's son's son then... and judging by the spatters of drying blood on the blanket whatever had brought him here may well have whisked him away from a murder in progress. If he was contacted by family seeking help finding the boy, he'd naturally hand him over... though the odds were extremely low of them even knowing that there were relatives here. He smirked as he noted that the odds were lower still that they would know of a way to pass through the veil that kept the hidden countries hidden. The odds of both together were so low as to be negligible.

Now he wasn't typically a religious man... religion in general tended to be frowned on by Shinobi, except those few blood and demon cults that were frowned upon by almost everyone. Even so, he had to say that this... Harry Potter... was a gift from the heavens, a sure sign that his plans were blessed, and that the ends did indeed justify his means. He was a way to control their weapon. Grinning widely behind his mask, he brought up a finger to his lips, shushing the loud approach of a small wave of ninja, all armed to the teeth.

A weapon, and a means to keep that weapon in check... it was perfect. Though raining burning rocks from the heavens upon Konoha also had its appeal... he'd keep that as a backup plan.

xxx

Time passed, and the boys grew up, raised by 'uncle Yashamaru'. Some things were foreordained by destiny, and so their uncle's sinister plot took place just the same way it would have had Harry never existed. Harry was simply led away with an accomplice, and returned to find Gaara staring at the stars in the midst of a ruined apartment with a brand new tatto on his forehead... the kanji 'ai', in approximately the same place that his own scar was. Harry had never asked just what had happened that night, and Gaara never volunteered the information, but he became decidedly colder after that night... not quite to the point of killing everyone who crossed his path, but the assassins that his father began sending against him to keep his skills sharp all died swiftly and bloodily. None of them were shinobi, or even from the village... after all it would make no sense to weaken the villages forces, simply to hone a single weapon.

It was over a year after the Yashamaru incident that the two discovered that Gaara had siblings... an older brother and sister. Their father had taken great pains to keep them seperate, leaving only Harry as the control for his precious weapon. The sister, Temari, was apparently thrilled to discover she had more family, and had dragged the brother, Kankurou, along with her after class to spring a game of twenty questions on Gaara.

Gaara had encased them both up to their necks in his sand and was threatening to crush them to death when Harry showed up and somehow convinced him to release them and invite them over for dinner. As Harry was the only person in the entire village he had not thought even once about killing, his normal methods of persuasion were unavailable. The dinner was a terse, quiet affair, punctuated by quick, nervous glances at Gaara. Harry seemed not to notice, but Gaara would leer menacingly back at them when he wasn't looking. Aside from that, the Kazekage was not at all pleased that his elder children had met the younger, but resigned himself to the fact that, as there was only one class for prospective ninja, their meeting was inevitable... and doubled the rate of thugs he sent after Gaara. It wasn't like he had to pay them anyway... just get them agree to be paid after the job was done and they were happy to charge the deathtrap that was Gaara. More time passed, and the children became Genin, warriors of the village. Gaara and Harry were partnered with an anxious Temari under the Jounin Baki, and Kankurou was apprenticed directly to learn from Suna's best puppeteer. They were sent on many missions, mainly to kill groups of bandits or low-level Nukenin, simple things where Gaara did most of the killing. The Kazekage's plans were swiftly bearing fruit.

Then the letter came.

xxx

The entire team, Baki included, stared in shock at the bird that had just appeared in a burst of flame before snapping into defensive stances. Temari whipped her fan open to show all three moons and Harry hopped back from the odd summon, pulling out a handfull of kunai and shuriken. Gaara crossed his arms and glared, while Baki stepped forward, hands carefully away from his weapons, to see if he could defuse this situation.

"Why are you here?"

The bird's response was to trill in song. The song... it was warm... gentle... soothing... it made the listeners want to relax while, unheard in the depths of Gaara's mind, Shukaku's screams of insanity changed slightly in their inflection to become screams of agony.

"A Genjutsu?" Baki muttered under his breath. "... Kai!"

He froze, and the Genin followed his example only to be just as surprised as he was when the soft melody issuing from the birds beak failed to lose any of its surprising potency. Harry was struggling to keep his thoughts rational. He had to stop the music. He had to... had to... the music... so... beautiful... His head began to slowly slump as his muscles began relaxing against his will. He would just sit down here for a while, and enjoy the beautiful music... no. His head snapped up, eyes narrowed dangerously as he hurled the weapons in his hands at the red bird. Its music cut off in a surprised, high pitched note as it dissappeared again in a burst of flame. The group analyzed the area, waiting for the next attack... even small summons could be dangerous, and as this one appeared to both have fire skills and a hefty Genjutsu at its command they couldn't afford to let down their guard. Within a few minutes their patience was rewarded... as the bird came out of another fireburst, dropped a large envelope at Harry's feet, and firebursted away again. They waited several more minutes to ensure that it wasn't coming back again before they let their guard down and Harry picked up the envelope and opened it, ignoring the odd seal in favor of the contents.

"Hmm... I can't read it. Not a word... some kind of code maybe?"

Temari stuck her head right next to Harry's... Gaara and Baki were a great deal more inconspicuous about catching a peek... and Baki's eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the markings on the parchment. It was slightly different, but he'd seen similar forms of writing in...

"Actually, I believe that is an entirely different language."

Harry and Temari's heads turned to him, while Gaara snorted and glanced away, pretending to ignore everything they were saying. Image was important, and he'd spent too long cultivating his image to let it fall for the sake of a piece of paper.

"I'm not sure if it's a language used by whoever lived in the ruins you see here and there, or if it's something from another country... or even from outside the veil... but I've seen writings similar to that in the Kazekage's private library on occasion. We're only a few more minutes away from town... I'll see about bringing the subject up after I file a mission report."

xxx

Not long later, Baki was breaking out in a nervous sweat as the Kazekage idly flipped through the pieces of folded, pressed parchment. The mask covering most of his face made it difficult to read his emotions... so Baki couldn't tell whether that odd crease was because he was smirking or frowning. Either was bad... The Kazekage had a reputation of bloodthirstyness similar, but to a much lesser degree than Gaara's. Smiling or frowning typically meant someone was about to die. As did any other show of emotion, really. If what was written in the letter happened to upset him... Baki was fully prepared to leap out the window and take his chances on hitting the ground before he could perform the seals for a body flicker.

The Kazekage was giving no notice to Baki's discomfort as he read the letter. How... interesting. He had wondered why there was no noticable evidence of shinobi outside the veil, but this little letter and invitation... already, his mind was drawing parallels, taking the word 'magic' and correlating it to jutsu, and taking note of the apparent similaritys between these magic users... 'wizards' and 'witches'... and his own ranks of shinobi and kunoichi. From what he inferred from the extra explanatory letter, magic-users were actually more secretive and secluded than the shinobi were, concealing every aspect of their existence from their villagers... he couldn't help but feel slightly wistful at that, imagining a ninja village made up of only ninja... all the villages had a ninja leader, their Kage, and the civilian leaders that made up their council of elders... occasionally there were retired nin on the council, but not often. It was seemingly inevitable that the council and Kage would clash, and often... simply banning everyone but ninja and ninja trainees from the village would alleviate a great deal of headaches. Also, rather than hand signs, these magic-users used something called a wand to channel and focus chakra for their jutsu... Interesting differences, but they were not truly so different. Perhaps with a great deal of research he would be able to find a common ground in their respective paths, before the veil shrouded the hidden countries from view... after the invasion of Konoha.

He paused... the invasion. This would be a useful opportunity, the boy was a tool, a hilt, making it safe for him to grasp the blade of Suna's greatest weapon, his son... The boy would no doubt be grateful for this opportunity, learning jutsu that no other in the hidden countries, to his knowledge, would be able to learn or use. The tool would be much more useful... but the invasion was more important. This... blemished pig place would want him to remain for an entire nine months of every year, for the next seven years. This could be a problem. He reached into his desk, still ignoring the fidgeting Baki, who would glance at the window or turn his head slightly to glance at the door every so often, and withdrew... a calendar. Hmm... from there to there leaves... okay... ahah! After the first nine months of schooling, there was a Chunnin exam scheduled in Konoha. That would be the perfect time to strike, and allow the boy to study new, useful jutsu at the magic-users school.

Now... how to do this. Gaara would become dangerously unstable if seperated from his adoptive brother for too long... at most, they would have a week before he was ranting alongside the Shukaku's voice and killing indiscriminately... he knew this well, as he had once sent the two on seperate month long missions. There were dozens of civilian casualties before they'd managed to hunt Harry down and drag him to Gaara... apparently something about his presence complemented and reinforced the seal to the point that the demon within was in full control... though his prolonged absence swiftly degraded those reinforcements, leaving Gaara's fragile psyche open to the demons attacks. If he sent the boy away for so long, alone, there may well not be anything left of Suna by the time he got back.

No, if Harry went, Gaara would have to go as well. But how to arrange things...? Hmm. A plan... that could work... but that would be even better, and he could classify it as a mission... a long term mission like that would pay off very well in the long run, justifying it to the stupid civilian councilors... as long as he could convince this Dumbledore fellow to pay. Hmm...

"Baki."

At the single word, the Jounin snapped to full attention. Hanging on his every word, and only slightly less prepared to throw himself out of harm's way. The Kazekage smirked, unseen under his mask... he still had it.

"You have a summoning contract with the... ravens, I believe? Or was it crows?"

"Ravens, Kazekage-sama."

"Hmm... just checking. Wait a moment, would you?"

He nodded and withdrew an empty scroll case and very small brush from his desk... it had taken him months to master the trick to getting all the lines of this alphabet so thin, but he had mastered it. He also withdrew a piece of the paper that he had been intending to make into a special, custom explosive note... it was about the same size as the paper in the letter, so it would do. He paused for a moment, assembling his thoughts as he considered the wording of the letter before he wrote.

_To the Honorable Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I give my most cordial greetings._

_Your interesting bird and the letter it bore caused quite a stir to its recipient and a group of his friends... moreso in that I had not yet seen or felt the need to teach my adoptive son the English language that is spoken outside the Veil. He was quite confused, and had his tutor (that word is correct, is it not?) bring it to me immediately._

_Having read the letter, I have come to the conclusion that my son would do well to attend your school... although there are matters that must be discussed in person before any agreements are finalized. I request that you meet with me in person, as soon as possible, that we may have these discussions._

_I am most anxiously awaiting your reply._

_From the office of the Kazekage_

_of the Village Hidden in the Sands_

_in the Land of Winds_

He set his brush aside and glanced over the note again. Short, but not too short as to be impolite, and he believed that the proper tone had been set. Now the trick would be giving this Dumbledore the information he wanted him to have, while keeping from him the information that he didn't. He would have to steer their conversations carefully, and make sure that only the questions he wanted to answer were asked. He checked to ensure the ink was dry before rolling the paper and placing it in the scroll case and waving it in Baki's direction. Baki immediately deduced his silent command and bit his thumb open before making several hand seals.

A puff of smoke signalled the arrival of the raven, to which the Kazekage easily handed the scroll case.

"I need you to take this past the veil, and deliver it. His name is Dumbledore, and he resides in a school in Scotland. Can you find him?"

The raven closed its eyes, focusing on the ability most summoned birds had, the one that made them so useful as messengers. Within a few minutes it had located the person with the given name and his general area. The ravens eyes opened again.

"Found... but a long way from here. For a nonstop flight, I'll get there by morning and be exhausted for the next few days. You owe me for this, Baki."

Baki nodded... carrion birds were usually notoriously easy to bribe. A few fresh corpses and they'd fall all over themselves to please you forever... the smarter ones were of a much more mercenary nature though. They might do little stuff for free, but for something like this he would have to pay later. Shouldn't be hard... he'd just purloin the remains of the next thug or two that was set on Gaara.

xxx

Shock and chaos was paramount among the teachers that had already gathered at the school the next morning as a monstrous bird, three times the size it could have possibly attained naturally, flapped down to the Headmaster's plate and dropped a cylindrical object before flapping out the window and disappearing. When Hagrid rushed to the window to watch the 'nice little bird' fly away, it was gone... leaving only a faint scent of smoke behind. Dumbledore quickly brushed off the queries and expressions of shock at the odd event as he tucked the cylinder inside his robes and finished his breakfast before he headed to his office.

As he entered, he paused just long enough to change the password... and not to a form of candy either. While he was a barmy old man, he wasn't quite that barmy yet... if he didn't want to be interrupted, he was perfectly capable of changing his eccentric habits. Speaking of eccentric habits, he lifted a few lemon drops from their place in the bowl and popped them in his mouth, savoring the sweet yet sour flavor as he sat at his desk and withdrew the cylinder.

It was very interesting... images were engraved on it, of four pointed stars, and it was beautifully laquered. It was formed almost fully of silver, with gold edging... and the catch and hinges were so well hidden that it took Dumbledore the better part of an hour to figure out how to open it, and by that time he was frustrated enough that he had very nearly thrown it out the window several times. Childish, but he had been running into all sorts of problems lately, mostly pertaining to young Mr. Potter. To start off with, Ms Figg had been reporting once a month like clockwork that Harry was flourishing... but when they sent the Hogwarts acceptance letter, it had returned unopened. Several times. Eventually Dumbledore had decided that someone should deliver the letter personally, because it appeared that the wards around Privet Drive were interfering with the owl post... but when he and Hagrid arrived, they had been shocked to discover that the family at number four... were _not_ the Dursleys, and Harry was nowhere to be found.

After a quick meeting with several of the school professors, they had sent out one of the more expensive international post owls with a tracking charm... to find the Dursleys. The second it stopped moving, they were already apparating to the location, and they arrived in a panicking household. They were fortunately able to stun the Dursleys and question them... with the aid of a little bit of slightly illegal Veritaserum. Their answers sent everyone into a panic... except Snape, who didn't care what fate may have befallen Potter's spawn. Dumbledore had immediately led the party back to his office, where he removed one of the paintings from the wall and opened a safe, uncaring of the fact that he was revealing a secret that had been kept for some time with that act, and withdrew a stone that he hadn't looked at for the past decade... he had keyed it into the life of Harry Potter, and that link would transcend all forms of barriers to give him some small information about the boy. If it was white, the boy was alive and healthy... if it was black, the boy was dead. The varying shades of grey in between signified all manner of illnesses and injuries.

The stone was glowing a fierce white. Dumbledore breathed a huge sigh of relief before explaining exactly what that meant to the rest. Their own expressions of relief were abundant and sincere... except for Snapes. Then again, he was so out of practice with showing any form of positive emotion that it would be very difficult to look sincere... He was mentally given a pass.

After the thankful discovery that Harry yet lived, they had begun searching for him in earnest... but the boy was nowhere to be found. Nothing could find him... normal owls, ravens, post owls, international post owls, post owls enchanted to be able to make it through anything but the most powerful of wards... they had even tried more unorthodox methods, such as requesting a house elf to deliver the letter, and contacting the goblins for the use of their excellent information services... eventually they had almost given up, until the Headmaster had the brilliant idea of asking Fawkes to carry the letter. It was an uncommon request to give a phoenix, and he was half afraid his old friend would become insulted that he was being asked to... frankly serve a role similar to a messenger pigeon. At first it _had_ seemed like the bird had been insulted and left... but then he had reappeared to snatch the letter before disappearing and reappearing again at his perch.

The letter was conspicuously absent.

After finally opening the odd case, Dumbledore quickly scanned the letter inside... then paused and reread it again, slower. Veil? Hidden Village? Kazekage? He'd never heard these terms before... and adoptive son? Harry of course... Had he been kidnapped? Dumbledore shook his head, banishing the ridiculous thought. Likely someone from beyond this 'veil' had been passing by, and rescued Harry from the large dog Petunia had mentioned as absent, perhaps being bitten in the process. That would explain the blood... and they may well have simply assumed the letter with Harry was the typical 'this is my child, please take care of it' that was left with abandoned children. Under those conditions, this unnamed person would be rescuing an infant, with the best of intentions. Yes... that was a much more palatable thought for the Headmaster. He called Fawkes to his side and they fire-ported away, most interested to meet the person who had rescued an innocent child from a feral beast... and apparently adopted him.

xxx

A.N.

Okay, this little exercise came about as the result of a discussion of the many HP/Naruto crossovers where there are several major common plotlines. Harry is raised in Konoha, or he summons the ninja gang from across dimensions to guard him or something like that. There are good HP/Naruto crosses, but most of them look almost exactly alike, and Harry is almost exactly the same... just a little more dangerous, and constantly armed.

Anyway, after a while the conversation shifted to a what if question. What if Harry was raised in one of the other major villages aside from Konoha? I couldn't get the question out of my mind, and eventually this fic came to be. Hey... if James can be related to the Yondaime Hokage, why can't he be related to the Kazekage?

Stay tuned next chapter, as the Kazekage's devious plot unfolds!

Please review... (Puppy dog eyes).


	2. Chapter 2

Sabaku no Potter

xxx

The bodyguards of the Kazekage, two of the most powerful ANBU in Suna, went on full alert as an old man appeared in the office with a flash of fire. A subtle hand signal from the Kazekage relaxed them slightly, sending them slinking back into the shadows, but they were still alert and wary, watching. Should this old man give even the slightest hint of being a danger to their leader, they would show no hesitation in eliminating that danger.

Dumbledore blinked, dazed at the aftereffects of travel. Was it because he had passed through this nebulous 'veil'? Normally, travelling by phoenix flame had no effect at all, save a slight warmth. After another few moments of blinking rapidly, his attention fell on the masked man behind a desk, carefully slipping a marker into a small orange book, which he then set to the side.

"Dumbledore-san, I presume? I've been expecting you. Please, have a seat."

Dumbledore didn't notice the way Fawkes glared at the Kazekage before fluttering off to the top of a cabinet in the corner where it continued to glare as he sat in the indicated, and very comfortable, chair.

"Please, call me Albus."

"... Very well, Albus-san. I am glad you responded so promptly. I do indeed believe it would be in Harry's best interest to attend your magic school, but the simple fact is that he is needed here as well. A simple glance out the window will show you that our village has grown poorer over the years. Our only major source of income left is from mercenary missions that our shinobi run... and even those are fewer and further between these days."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, getting the feeling that he was being set up for something, but unable to do anything about it.

"This may seem like it is unimportant, but please do not interrupt. Despite our recent state of poverty, we are one of the foremost Shinobi villages in the Elemental countries."

Dumbledore noted this down for future reference, making a note to look up what a 'Shinobi' was. Obviously some form of local militia.

"Our Shinobi begin training at around the age of six, two years earlier than the accepted average of eight elsewhere. They graduate from the academy as active Genin at a similarly younger age here than the norm. To be blunt, young Harry has been an active Suna-nin for the past two years, and I cannot reasonably allow him such long absences from the village, and the money that his team's missions contribute to Suna's survival. His team has had two years to learn to work together... sending him away would render them ineffective. As for the time it would take for them to train themselves to work without him, or to train another to take his place... they might barely be finished by the time Harry would return from your school for a holiday, and then they would have to start all over again. I would, in effect, be leaving what is potentially the best of our younger squads on the back burner for the next seven years. The council, and most of the civilians, would have my head for such an ill-advised action."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded sadly. At the moment his mind was working like mad, but he couldn't poke any holes in the Kazekage's argument. Harry _needed_ to go to Hogwarts. At the same time, Harry _needed_ to stay here. It would be an interesting conundrum, if it were happening to other people.

"However..."

Dumbledore found himself leaning forward, hoping to hear a loophole to the impossible tugs of duty. He was not to be dissappointed.

"It would not be out of the question to send such a promising team out on long term missions, though a reason would have to be provided. As well as the proper payment, of course."

Dumbledore grimaced at the idea... it seemed far too much like bribery for his tastes, yet from another point of view it made perfect logical sense, and fulfilled both obligations with a single stroke. Granted, this _was_ something of a unique situation, so allowances would have to be made. Hmm.

At length, he agreed, and the topic shifted to terms of payment. First of their respective currencies, and a quick check to see how many galleons would equal a ryo, or vice versa. Dumbledore missed how the Kazekage's eyes lit up with greed and avarice as he withdrew a handful of gold from his robes to calculate value. Fawkes did not, and ruffled his feathers in irritation. The price was set, with surprisingly little haggling. Five hundred of the wizard's gold pieces a year for each of the four genin, as the Kazekage had pulled a fast one and slipped Kankurou's files in with the team's, and one thousand for the Jounin-sensei Baki to accompany them and assure this 'Hogwarts' was kept safe during the school year.

In total that was three thousand galleons a year for the next seven years, as well as paying for any supplies or equipment neccessary for the five ninja... In short, somewhat over twenty one thousand galleons. The Kazekage was pleased because that much money would be a great boon for Suna. Dumbledore was pleased because, as the last line of an old and wealthy family, that was a smaller chunk out of his personal fortunes than one might expect. And really, the boy was more important than a little gold, right?

xxx

Baki did a once over his students as they continued to train, only one slightly sweaty, but all three panting. Temari was a wind specialist, made obvious by her gigantic fan. The first thing she'd done as a genin was to create a new, E-class justu that was incredibly useful to the desert dwellers. What it did was to cause the air within a few millimeters of a person's skin to constantly swirl around, cooling the person to the point where even in the desert, in the midst of intensive training, the person would stay cool and fresh.

The jutsu was now required learning for all ninja, and had cut down severely on shipping costs now that less people were using cold baths to keep the temperature down.

Gaara wasn't sweaty either, and Baki moved his eyes past him as fast as possible. The boy was practicing his control over the sands again. That was a good thing, but the way he did it was... disturbing. He would will the sands to represent Suna, an exact replication, simply in miniature, and then destroy it in a myriad of fashions. Natural disasters and the like. This time it was a simulated earthquake, and he had gone the whole nine yards and created tiny, inch tall villagers who were silently screaming their heads off as their city crumbled around them.

He shivered as his gaze locked on the last child, knowing that in all likelyhood it was only his presence that kept Gaara from acting on his random fantasies. Harry Potter, the boy who had appeared so mysteriously on the night of Gaara's birth. The Kazekage claimed that he was a relation, but they only had his word and a few papers that could be interpreted to mean any number of things as proof of that. All that mattered, though, was the fact that his mere presence near Gaara was enough to keep the demon within him quelled. Oh he was still bloodthirsty, and no small bit psychotic, but at least he wasn't actively doing his best to kill everyone and everything around him.

Harry was a weapons specialist, specializing in all forms of sharp and pointy metal. He was average in everything else, except Genjutsu which, for some reason, he was masterful with. The boy had convinced a Chunnin that he was an alleycat once... a Chunnin that had _supposed_ to have been a prodigy with Genjutsu. Said Chunnin now hated Harry's guts because of the rigorous training program his sensei had forced him into once he'd come to, naked and grooming himself on the top of a fish market stall.

Actually, the naked and grooming part of it played no small part in his hatred as well.

At the moment, he was running through kata with a large battle scythe, made completely of black metal with a silvery edge. The only word to describe it was 'wicked'. The first time he had swung it around he had somehow accidentally cut off the lobe of his right ear. Nobody knew how, and the medic-nin hadn't managed to find the fleshy lump in time to reattach it, so now his face seemed asymettrical at even a glance, though most people didn't even notice the flaw until attention was called to it.

Even so, the scythe was still his favorite toy.

Baki absently threw his arm up as a large hawk came in for a landing. He plucked the tiny piece of paper attached to its leg off and sent it flapping back into the sky, heading back towards the Kazekage's tower. He sighed as he read the message. Only a day since they'd gotten back from their last mission, and they were being sent on another, long-term one.

And that annoying punk Kankurou was coming along. Baki hated puppeteers, as he saw them as little more than grown men and women playing with oversized dolls. Kankurou though, was even more annoying than most with his kabuki face paint and weird kitty-eared hood. The fact that the boy was the Kazekage's son so he couldn't just beat the crap out of him whenever they met only served to make things worse in his opinion. He would actually shudder whenever he thought about the possibility that the kid could have been on his team... Brr.

He waited for Harry to finish his kata before speaking up... the tongue lashing and death threats he'd recieved after the ear incident weren't something he wanted to repeat. Although admittedly, the consequences of the dumb kid accidentally slashing his throat wide open were horrifying to think of. On the bright side, if he messed up in such a fashion, the Kazekage would kill him _long_ before Shukaku had the chance.

The sad thing was that that actually gave him the most profound sense of relief imaginable.

"Alright brats, finish up and put your stuff away. The Kazekage wants a word."

Temari stopped swinging her fan around and placed it on her back, while Harry sealed his weapons into scrolls. Gaara formed a big fist out of sand and slammed it into what was left of the miniature Suna, rendering both into floating particles. Baki winced as a foot formed out of the sand and stamped at the particles, rendering the area the mini-Suna had been flat and packed hard.

They met up with Kankurou about halfway to the tower and the brat wouldn't stop bragging about how 'the great Chiyo-baa-sama' had taught him something new. Baki wanted to smack him, or at least set fire to the cigar shaped package on his back. It would be _so_ satisfying... He sighed and brushed the idea away as they entered the Kazekage's office, and the brat finally shut up.

The Kazekage ruffled through a stack of papers before handing a sheet out to the group in general, and one genin in particular.

"Harry. I've taken the liberty of having the letter that was delivered to you translated. If you would, have a look."

Harry bowed respectfully before taking the papers and stepping back. A slight frown sprouted on his face as he read the letter, growing larger as he continued further. By the time he reached the end of the letter, he had erupted into a full blown scowl.

"Kazekage-sama... forgive my impertinence... but is this some sort of joke?"

"Of course not. I've checked it out, and the letter is authentic. You recall our lessons, and the veil that seperates us from the outside? They are the outsides version of our shinobi, as far as I can tell."

Harry nodded, and although most of the others had no idea what he was talking about, they kept quiet. The Kazekage favored Harry, even above his own children, to the point where he was given private lessons in everything under the sun. Rumor had it that he was preparing the boy to take over as Kazekage if he should die.

"I... I see. And... if I choose to remain here instead?"

"It is your decision... although I would be most dissapointed. Your compliance with this would earn Suna a small fortune, and I assure you you would get your fair share."

Harry made an indiscriminate 'Hn' noise as he considered. On the one hand, if this was a hoax, or a trap, it would have to be a damn good one to trick the Kazekage. On the other hand, if it was real... he would be being paid to learn things that few other Shinobi even knew existed.

"Your team and sensei will be joining you, as well as Kankurou, should you choose to attend. Your cover will be transfer students, and Baki will be working alongside one of the senseis that are already at the school to teach basic swordsmanship, to keep his cover as he prepares you for the Chunnin exam in Konoha."

That clinched it, even as Baki's eyes widened in shock. He'd been planning to wait at least another year, to when the exam would be held in Suna. The advantage of knowing their home ground, as well as having the extra months to train, would ensure that they would pass. However, the genin were confident that they could pass earlier, if the gleam in Harry's eye was correct.

"I see... Then I accept the mission."

"Excellent. Parameters are simple... upon arrival, you will be greeted by a small man. He believes that you three are transfer students, and that Baki is a professor accompanying you and Harry to Hogwarts, where the headmaster will 'reveal' that he will remain to help teach the new class. You will not dissuade his notions. Arrangements have been made to pay for your equipment, just charge it to this account in their bank. Now..."

He removed a very long, woolen sock from somewhere and handed it to his subordinates.

"Just make sure everyone is holding on to this, and once I speak the activation phrase, you'll be off."

"A sock?"

"Yes... the wizard I spoke to seemed rather... eccentric. Sherbet Lemons."

And with those two, seemingly innocent words, their world dissolved into into a flash of dizzying color, as a fishook lodged within each of their navels and jerked them away, screaming.

"That was... surprisingly satisfying. I should see about arranging things such as this more often."

He sighed as his aide cheerfully brought in another stack of paperwork, dumped it on his desk and left. That... that had just completely killed his good mood.

xxx

All five shinobi staggered to one degree or another as they appeared in an alley, from Gaara's mild frown of discomfort to Kankurou's ripping the lid off a trash can and vomiting heavily inside.

"That..." Baki muttered quietly, "Was definitely the _least_ pleasant method of travel I have _ever_ experienced. And I've experienced quite a few."

"Hello!" Someone called, in extremely accented Japanese. "You are the transferring students and teacher, yes? This way, this way... Mind your step Potter-san. Portkey leave still dizzy? Then we wait a moment, yes? No?"

"I think," Baki interrupted in English. "That it would be best to speak in English, for the sake of those around us. I have been trained to be fluent in speaking your language, and I am sure the others will pick up this slack quickly enough."

"Ah, excellent. But allow me to introduce myself. I am Filius Flitwick, Head of the Ravenclaw house at Hogwarts, and the Charms instructor. But this isn't really the best place to speak of these matters... come along then, the Leaky's just a couple streets over this way and once we've reached it there are enough confusion and redirection wards over the whole street that the muggles wouldn't notice anything odd if a ghost chose to wander through the area... not that most of them would be able to see it anyway."

It took a moment for the Jounin to catch the interesting bit.

"Pardon..." Baki interrupted. "But by 'ghost' you mean... an apparition of one who has passed on, but remained in this world?"

"Precisely! Of course, not everyone..."

He stopped listening to him as he slipped into lecturing, a habit extremely common to teachers, and shared a quick glance. Baki began a quick conversation with the others with handsigns, informing them of the upgraded danger, while privately wondering about how their guide could speak so blandly about hungry spirits walking the night.

"...why, one of our own Professors, Binns... as he tells it he got up one morning to teach and didn't even realize until he was in the classroom that he'd left his body behind..."

Ah. That would be why, then. Still, Harry's hands weren't any more than a slight twitch away from dropping a scroll full of sealed weapons into his palm, Temari and Gaara's eyes were narrowed slightly now, and Kankurou had seamlessly switched places with the puppet on his back midstep. Much as he hated puppeteers, even he could admire that he could barely tell that the switch had occurred.

"And here we are. Come along then... and if you'll wait in here just a moment, I'll see about getting a room from Tom for you before we go speak with Headmaster Dumbledore."

Baki quietly translated the gist of it while Flitwick went directly to the barman and started up a conversation. Then the group went quiet, simply observing. Their eyes, of course, were drawn to seperate things. Baki noted a man in the corner feeding a strip of mutton to the raven on his shoulder and took a moment to wonder where he would find fresh corpses to placate his summons now. Surely the Kazekage wouldn't be able to send thugs after his son with such a great distance between the two? Gaara noted that the substance that the pale woman in the shadows was drinking out of a tin goblet was thick and red and familiar. Harry caught a glimpse of a dartboard out of the corner of his eyes and was wondering if he could hit a bullseye without turning his head. He was doing his best to keep from trying to find out, but it was an uphill battle all the way. Kankurou was wrapped up on the back of his puppet, so he didn't see much of anything at all, but Temari was staring at a little animated dolly that was doing its best to keep one of a harried mother-of-triplet's two year olds occupied and considering buying one for his birthday. He would probably go absolutely _nuts_ over trying to figure out how it worked, to the point of setting himself up to be the butt of all sorts of jokes.

Better make sure it had a cute dress. A pink one. Temari's amused grin widened.

Flitwick returned to the group, smiling widely.

"Well, that's all settled now, and you've a large, family size suite reserved for you upstairs. Now if we could get along to the fireplace we can floo straight to the staff lounge at Hogwarts where Dumbledore's waiting."

"Floo?" Baki mumbled in a quiet state of confusion.

"Yes, fire travel, nothing to worry about. Just toss a pinch of floo powder in the fireplace and it'll turn green. Step in and call your destination out clearly... 'Hogwart's Staff Lounge' in this case... and remember to keep your elbows tucked in."

Baki arched an eyebrow at the instructions, but sensed no malice or untruth in the small man's words. Shrugging it off as another odd, and no doubt unpleasant, form of travel, Baki followed the orders. And ended up flat on his face at the end of his quick trip.

"I take it back." he mumbled as he quickly stood up and brushed himself off, getting himself in order before one of his students arrived to catch him in such severe disarray. "_That_ was the most unpleasant form of travel I have ever encountered."

"Oh, I've no doubt you shall get the hang of it soon enough, good sir." Said one of the paintings on the wall, to which Baki had no reply. What, after all, does one say to a painting?

He was, however, somewhat mollified when the younger ninja fared little better than he did. Save Gaara, of course. The redhead had simply stepped out of the fireplace with insufferable aplomb. _Flitwick_ doing so he could at least understand... the old man had doubtless been doing it his whole life. But Gaara had no such excuse for being so nonchalant.

Speaking of which, Flitwick was glancing around the room and frowning.

"Strange... he should be waiting here. A moment, if you please."

There was a moment of silence in which Baki actually caught the slight flicker of Kankurou switching places with his puppet to get a look at the area and back again before a quiet conversation began.

"Interesting paintings." Harry began drolly.

"They're moving." Temari pointed out, as though nobody else had noticed.

"They talk too." Baki added.

"Must make one hell of an information network. Couple of questions and someone could know just about _everything_ that happens in this place." Kankurou finished.

Gaara remained silent. Either he had nothing to add to the conversation, or he simply didn't feel like speaking at the moment. There was a very long pause in the conversation. Despite Baki's team working well together on missions, most of them didn't require a great deal of small talk. Mainly it could just be shortened to a mission briefing and Baki barking out orders, mainly to Gaara. 'Stand there' 'guard this' 'kill them' and the like. Adding Kankurou to the mix didn't help matters much, really.

"So..." Temari started anew. "Interesting weather they have here. Bit cold, in comparison." A definite understatement, considering they lived in a desert. "And it looks like it might rain."

_Now_ Gaara chose to give his opinion.

"I do not like water." he growled in monotone. "It makes controlling my sand difficult."

And that was the end of that conversation, returning things to an awkward silence for several minutes before a... _very _old man came through the door. More than one of the gathered ninja paused to wonder at the white hair and beard and wrinkles. Then again, it was rare indeed for a shinobi to live much past the age of twenty five, and the thirties were considered very old indeed. Baki, at thirty two, was one of the oldest active shinobi in Suna. There were, of course, older ones but they were generally retired, and would remain so unless the village came under sudden, unexpected attack or some other, equally dire, crisis arose. The most they ever got around to was 'fishing' in pools of empty water while they napped or, in some cases, Chiyo most primarily, passing the tricks of their trade down to a new generation. Though he kept getting the feeling that Chiyo only did so because she enjoyed being the object of Kankurou's abject hero-worship.

"Ah." said the old man, grabbing everyone's attention. "I do apologize for my tardiness. One of Hagrid's little pets had become slightly rowdy, you see, and assistance was required to calm it. Of course I'm sure you'll become familiar enough with Hagrid and his beasties, given that I shall doubtless make a request now and again that one or more of you help him to attend to some small matter."

The man paused for a moment, then smiled a wide, slightly eccentric, but grandfatherly smile complete with twinkling eyes. It immediately put all the shinobi on edge. In their experience, the people who tried the hardest to appear friendly and harmless were the ones to keep the closest eye on, as they were typically the most dangerous. Somehow he seemed to sense their discomfort, as the twinkling abated severely after a moment and the smile dimmed slightly, dropping him to 'weird, seldom mentioned, but affable uncle' levels. It wasn't much of an improvement.

"But of course I am remiss... Allow me to introduce myself. I am Headmaster Dumbledore. It is my pleasure, and honor, to welcome all of you to Hogwarts."

xxx

A.N. Aaaand, yeah. Let's just end it right there. This story is coming out _much_ slower than anticipated.

Of course, I have a couple of nifty twists planned for later. We just have to get there first, but we will. Eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

Sabaku no Potter

xxx

Naturally, Baki and Dumbledore clashed mere minutes into the introductions. Dumbledore wanted them all to go through some 'Sorting' thing which would theoretically seperate them up into four houses where they would sleep and socialize with their 'Housemates'.

After a couple questions about the tradition, and the houses themselves, Baki flatly refused. With how these houses were seperated from each other, there was too much of a risk that Harry and Gaara might be parted. Which could be anything from simply irritating if they were placed in, say, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, to a major catastrophe. If they were placed in Gryffindor and Slytherin, with their perpetual little feud, he had no doubt that Gaara would snap and kill everyone in the castle long before the first month was up.

After a brief, but intense argument, which shocked and scandalized the paintings watching.... after all Dumbledore always knows best, right? Why even consider protesting?... But eventually, an agreement was reached. The shinobi would get living quarters of their own and, while they would be put through the sorting nonsense they could, if they so chose, eat their meals and sleep in those quarters rather than with their housemates.

The second clash was over the classes Baki would teach. Dumbledore wanted him to teach something rather like basic physical education. Once again, Baki put his foot down. If they wanted to run laps around a large room or play games, the students could do it in their free time. _His_ classes would be teaching them the exact same way the academy had taught his own students, and he'd continued on with after their graduation. In fact, Baki decided aloud, Dumbledore had better make sure that Baki's class wasn't actually required, because by the time they were through with the first day, most of the students throughout all seven years would hate his guts and be in enough pain to drop the class immediately. Or as soon as they got out of the hospital wing, anyway.

Dumbledore didn't exactly seem pleased at the idea that Baki would be actively looking for opportunities to injure his students... and not even bothering to disguise the matter. Why, even Severus... but that wasn't important. Even so... Well, if the students were given the option to drop the course at any time, without prior warning, then it wouldn't really be so bad, would it? After all, they would certainly be there by their own choice. What was truly odd though was that Baki insisted on having all four houses taking his class at the same time.

A quick arrangement was made... Seven days a week, seven years of classes. Naturally, Baki's advanced students would be there every day. That would be... pretty much only the Suna-nin themselves. Everyone else would be needing at least a week to recover from their classes. Wizards didn't often keep themselves in good shape unless absolutely neccessary, so the only ones who might be able to quickly adapt to even a _normal_ muggle P.E. class would be the quidditch teams, pureblood scions who fenced for amusement, and first year muggleborns who hadn't yet let themselves go. With Baki in charge? Those would be the ones with a slim chance of simply _surviving_.

Quite possibly literally, depending on how annoying the brats were and whether or not Baki thought he could get away with it.

The third clash was over the sorting again. Dumbledore, stubborn old man that he was, wanted the shinobi and 'young Harry' to join with the other first years and be sorted in front of the entire school. Baki nearly went into apopoleptic fits. In the end, it was decided that since technically, nobody but Harry was actually a wizard, he was the only one who had to go through the mind-numbingly boring traditions. The rest could be placed now.

Baki and Kankurou were swiftly placed in Ravenclaw. Baki felt like vomiting, but privately decided that the filthy old hat was obviously defective. It was a thousand years old, after all, and there were obviously no similarities between himself and the _puppeteer_. Temari took a little longer, but was eventually placed in Hufflepuff. An odd placement, but it wasn't like it really mattered, as Baki doubted she'd voluntarily spend much time at all away from her squad. At that, perhaps it wasn't such an odd placement at all.

The hat had only barely come to rest on Gaara's head before it bellowed out 'SLYTHERIN' and Dumbledore plucked it back off.

The final clash of the day was over almost before it began. Dumbledore wanted them to lock away their weapons. All five of the others in the room brought bucketloads of killer intent to bear, nearly giving the old man a heart attack, and Baki tersely pointed out that the wand that every single wizard or witch carried was, in and of itself, a potentially lethal weapon and, as all of them except Harry would be carrying only shaped sticks with no magical core, they refused to give up their own weapons. Dumbledore wisely dropped the matter and summoned a House Elf to give them a quick tour of the castle and facilities, then lead them back to the Floo entrance, and gave the shinobi small orange lozenges that he assured them would instill a basic knowledge of the english language as they slept before collapsing into his chair and pouring himself a large, stiff drink.

xxx

The next morning, a very large, very hairy man knocked on the door to their rented rooms. Baki attempted to ignore the noise and get back to sleep if possible, but the man was either very patient or simply simpleminded as the knock continued, on and on and on, until Baki just couldn't take it any more. He got up from the absurdly comfortable bed and stalked to the door, throwing it open with a growl.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

To his credit, the large man only flinched a little bit, and didn't soil himself at all. There were many shinobi that couldn't say the same, after having confronted a suddenly awakened Baki's death-glare.

"Well, uh, I'm Hagrid, Keeper o' the keys and Groundskeeper here, an' Dumbledore's sent me to take young Harry out shopping for his school supplies."

Baki grunted and stepped back, allowing the man entry. Hagrid happily did so, wiping the sweat from his brow, and followed Baki down the small hallway until he held out a hand to stop him.

"Please, wait here."

Hagrid nodded, not sure what was going on, but obediently came to a stop several feet away as Baki continued on and opened one of the doors. Then his eyes widened as Baki tugged a throwing knife out of his sleeve and launched it into the room.

"What're yeh-?"

His question was interrupted by the sound of metal ricocheting off of metal and a rapid rustling of cloth, and his jaw dropped as Baki barely brought a tanto out of its hiding place fast enough to block Harry's scythe. Baki had to block several more attacks before there was an opening for him to smack Harry in the face with the pommel.

Only then did Harry's eyes open.

"Huh... morning already, sensei?"

Baki slapped him again, but with his bare hand this time.

"Idiot." He chided gently. "You force me to go through this every morning... a true shinobi should sleep lightly, and wake at the slightest disturbance. Being able to fight off attacks in your sleep is no excuse."

"Hmm... you talk big, sensei... but who was it that nearly murdered that poor courier that caught you napping?"

Baki slapped him again. Even so, Harry kept the smug grin.

"In any case, go notify Gaara. He'll be joining your little excursion today."

"Oh? You just don't want to run the risk that he'll crush you for interrupting his meditation. So where are you going?"

"I?" Baki looked back over his shoulder and smirked. "I'm going back to sleep."

Truly it was no wonder that these wizards were such slothful creatures, having such incredible... eh? Killer intent... the air around Harry was all but sizzling with a murderous rage...

"So..." Harry seethed. "You wake me from a pleasant slumber, but intend to go back to sleep yourself? Despicable! I'll bind you in the torments of a thousand hells-"

Baki slammed to door to his own sleeping quarters shut, completely ignoring Harry's enraged rant and, without an audience, he quickly wound down to a close.

"Eh, whatever. Stay here a moment, large hairy man."

It was a measure of just how stunned Hagrid was that he simply nodded quietly and proceeded to very carefully ignore everything that happened next, including the veritable desert that poured its way out the door that Harry opened. Gaara had privately spoken with a House-elf or two, it seemed.

Several long, silent, tense moments passed before Harry walked back out, Gaara floating alongside him on a little cloud of sand. Hagrid carefully ignored this as well.

As things turned out, Wizards were every bit as good as the Muggles at ignoring things they didn't want to see. Harry never bothered to suggest that Gaara get off the damn sand and exersize his legs for the first time since he figured out he could make his sand fly because Hagrid hadn't really reacted to the sight, wide, glazed eyes aside. As such, they were now at Diagon alley where the people who's families had been wizards were quietly ignoring the display of sand-assisted flight and privately sulking about it to themselves and the people who were relatively new to the wizarding world just shrugged it off as one more oddity.

Incidentally, Dumbledore hadn't had the time to learn what the magic-less shinobi were actually capable of, and so hadn't gotten around to subtly warning them off displaying their abilities in public. And now, it was too late.

"Er... books first, then, lad?" Hagrid asked, obviously uncomfortable with the stares that, while they hadn't stopped entirely, had slackened a great deal at a combined Harry-Gaara Doom Glower.

"If you insist. However, I'd prefer that we first purchase whatever it is that will burden us the least, as we shall likely be carrying it the longest."

"Right ye are, 'Arry, right ye are. Ollivanders first then, and after that it'll be Madame Malkins fer robes... Oh righ'... ye'll be wantin' to stop by Gringotts fer some currency first."

"I was assured that my bill would be covered." Harry interjected. Hagrid frowned slightly, but nodded.

"'Twill be lad, 'twill be... but Dumbledore's only coverin' yer school supplies, wand, and robes... ye see something else ye want, yeh'll have to pay yerself."

"And there it seems lies the rub... you see, I've no money of my own, nor any idea what the exchange rates might be."

"Rubbish lad. Ye didn' think yer parents would die an' leave ye wit' nothing?"

Truthfully, Harry had nearly forgotten that he'd had parents at all, much less that they had been magical in nature, but didn't think it tactful to mention this, simply nodding and spending the rest of the walk in silence until they arrived at the bank.

It was a study of contrasts... The stonework was simply horrible, although the stone itself was obviously valuable, all bulging walls and leaning pillars to the point that he had to admit that magic was the only possible explanation as to why the structure hadn't collapsed long ago. On the other hand, the doors were beautifully wrought of silver, with intricate etchings and a carved poem in the face.

"Enter, stranger..." Harry mumbled as he skimmed through it. "Oh... a warning against thieves."

"Right ye are." Hagrid interjected unneccessarily, perhaps uncomfortable with the children's silence. "Ye'd have to be daft to try to rob Gringotts. Safest place in the world to keep things... 'Cept maybe Hogwarts, but tha's not the point. In we go."

Hagrid started to bustle the boys through but, perhaps flashing back to earlier, quickly changed his mind and headed through himself, the young shinobi trailing and floating just behind him.

The shriveled, clawed, and bespectacled... thing that served as teller kept them waiting several minutes, filling paperwork in Hagrid's shadow before both Harry and Gaara had had enough and got its attention with a pair of focused bursts of killer intent. The thing jerked sharply, and its eyes snapped quickly between them before turning to Hagrid and putting on a businesslike air.

"May I help you?"

"Mr. Potter here, te make a wit'drawal... oh, an' Dumbledore sent me ta pick up the... the _you know what_, in vault _you-know-which_."

The shinobi felt an almost physical stab of pain at the large man's blatant and ineffective attempts to be inconspicuous as he withdrew a crinkled piece of folded parchment from his jacket and handed it over to the thingy, whose nose flared as it read through and then filed it away in its desk.

"And... does mister Potter have his key?"

"Key! Righ', got it around here somewhere..." Hagrid dug around his pockets for a minute before digging out a small golden key and setting it gently on the desk. The thing picked it up and inspected it closely before it nodded grudgningly and proffered it to Harry.

"Very well... Griphook will take you to the vaults."

The trip to the first vault went in silence, stopping at number 713. Hagrid staggered out, and waved them back when Harry began to rise. Harry shrugged and sat back down, doing his best to ignore the grubby little package that Hagrid picked up and tucked away.

"It'll be your vault next then, Harry. Best I keep me mouth shut though... these carts always leave me a mite queasy..." What was visible of his face went green as the cart lurched into motion and sped along rickety tracks.

The next vault was filled with gold coins, which Harry very carefully did not reveal how much impressed him. Instead, he filled a side pouch with the gold and calmly returned to the cart.

xxx

Hagrid was a frazzled mess by the time they left the bank, and he dropped them off outside Ollivanders before mumbling something about a pick-me-up and staggering off.

The inside of Ollivander's was dark and quiet, dozens of shelves packed with boxes lit by candles. The shopkeeper himself was a very quiet and stealthy person... were they normal civilians, they would have been completely taken by surprise when he stepped out of the shadows behind them.

"Mr. Potter." He murmured, staring intently at Harry's forehead, before turning a curious gaze toward Gaara before dismissing him. "Why only yesterday it seems it was... your mother and father came for their first wands. Ah, but now is not the time for reminiscence. Tell me, which is your wand hand?"

"If you mean... which hand do I favor, then I have been trained to be equally proficient with both, but I have a tendency to use my right."

Ollivander nodded and began rummaging through boxes before handing a stick to Harry.

"Try this, Oak and Phoenix feather, give it a wave... no, that will never do."

Harry blinked as the odd man plucked the stick out of his hands almost as fast as he'd placed it there and stuck another in.

"Willow and Dragon Heartstring, give it a try... no no, all wrong."

This continued for some time, Ollivander growing more an more and more excited as time progressed.

"Hmm... try... Try this one, Potter. Holly and Phoenix feather, give it a nice wave..." He paused and watched raptly before frowning as the wand gave apparently unsatisfactory results. "No, eh? I was so sure, too... Well, Mr Potter, it seems we'll have to get into some of the more esoteric cores and combinations. Try this one... Rowan and centaur tail hair, willingly donated of course."

The test continued on again for some time, through such things as Werewolf fur and Vampire fang, Merfolk scale and Salamander tongue until they finally found one that matched.

"Sandalwood, ten and a half inches, with a core of the optic nerve of a Demiguise. An interesting piece, good for spells that fool the senses. That will be all, Mr Potter... I know where to send the bill."

Hagrid was waiting outside, where he had apparently decided to take a nap on a nearby bench. Gaara found himself mildly disgruntled that he had no such luxury. He alleviated that frustration by lifting Hagrid with his sand, holding him upside down, and shaking him violently.

"I'm up, I'm up! Merlin, lad, but ye do have a short fuse on ye."

Gaara dropped him on his back with a 'whumph', and Harry coughed softly.

"Let's just continue on. Have you worked out an itenerary, Hagrid"

"'Course, 'course... next stop be Madame Malkin's, fix ye up with some school robes. Mind, if ye want dress robes or casual wear or any such, ye'll have to be paying for them yourself-"

"That won't be neccessary, Hagrid."

xxx

Shinobi were, by and large, not morning people. It most likely came from the fact that most of their duties were carried out under the cover of darkness, so when dawn finally came they hadn't been asleep long, and their bodies were unwilling to awaken.

As such, it wasn't until well after Hagrid had carted off the two youngest that Temari began to drag herself slowly out of bed and to the bathroom.

There was no bath in it. Images of a murder spree shot through the kunoichi's head. There was a small, horrible little toilet, but no shower. This would not do, not when she'd noted that there seemed to be no shortage of water and was looking forward to a long, hot soak.

She stumbled back into the main sitting room and slammed her hand down hard on the little bell thingy they'd been instructed to press should they require anything.

A small, vaguely humanoid creature wearing a pillowcase had appeared in the room before the tone died.

"How may Blinky be serving ms guest?"

She stared for a moment before shaking the surreality off.

"Bath." She bit off, voice gravely with an early morning hatred of all existence. The thing- Blinky- nodded and snapped it's fingers.

"Blinky shall be drawing up the bath for ms guest right away!" It chirruped, as a large, footed tub slammed into the ground and began slowly filling itself with water. Short moments later, the full tub began to give off steam and Blinky had gone. It was several more moments before Temari snapped out of the dull stare she seemed locked into and began to undress, not even considering dragging the tub into another, more private room, or ringing Blinky back up and making it do it for her.

Naturally, the door swung open almost exactly the moment that she'd submerged herself in the water.

"Kankurou," she mumbled, sending him a deathglare. "Get the _fuck_ out."

There was a clatter of wood on wood as Kankurou's puppet dropped to the floor, indicating that he'd replaced himself with it and was now hanging by his elbows from hooks in a closet.

Roughly an hour later, she left the tub and dressed herself, completely apathetic about whatever amount of trouble she may have caused by occupying and blocking and important room... which actually wasn't that much, as Baki hadn't yet gotten up and Kankurou had subtly collected his puppet before going to catch some more sleep himself.

That left her free to dry her hair and collect her fan before sauntering out of the tavern and using a short-range teleportation technique to bypass that inconvenient gate into Diagon Alley altogether.

It was time for her to take a closer look at the culture, lifestyle, and whatnot of these magic people. And the things they had for sale.

She'd been windowshopping for a while and had foiled no less than three ill-advised pickpocket attempts and subtly broken the wrist of a particularly filthy, morbidly obese old pervert before she crossed paths with the other shinobi.

"I've told you already Hagrid, it's a nice thought, but I really don't want it."

"She's a her, lad."

"Fine. I still don't want her."

"Bu' why not? Dead useful, owls. Smart, and deliver messages for ye..."

"She's white, Hagrid." Harry stated, as if that should end the argument right there. And if Hagrid had been a shinobi, or knew much of anything about the shinobi lifestyle, it would have. White was a singularly rare color on most animals, and completely unheard of among the nocturnal wildlife of the elemental countries.

A white owl, if seen multiple times in the vicinity of a ninja, would quickly become a warning flag of that ninja's presence. For an experienced shinobi, that wouldn't neccessarily be a problem, but as a Genin it was something like painting a bullseye over your face and binding your hands behind you before a mission began.

Even so, Temar mused.

"Don't be like that, Harry-kun... it's very bad manners to turn down a gift. Sure you won't be able to take her back with us until you're Jonin-equivalent, but I'm sure Hagrid here would be more than happy to care for her while we're away." Hagrid nodded rapidly and eagerly. "And she is a pretty thing, after all."

"Fine." Harry grumbled, before he blinked and grinned. "I accept your gift, Hagrid... and pass her along to you, Temari-nee."

She accepted the cage without much fuss... she knew full well she'd probably have been dumped with the responsibility of taking care of it anyway... and promptly poked a finger through the bars and cooed at the owl. It nipped her finger, hard enough to draw blood, seemingly agitated about being passed around like an unwanted fruitcake. Temari laughed.

"Irritable little girl, aren't we? You're a smart one... we'll have to see about training you to attack, swoop down and claw at someone's eyes-"

Hagrid coughed loudly, clearly disturbed at where the conversation had begun heading.

"Right, then. Ye got your supplies, your books an' whatnot being sent to your room at tha Cauldron, your owl... I think we're about done here lads. An' lass. 'Bout time for me to be gettin back to Hogwarts, lots to do 'fore classes start."

"You do that Hagrid."

He nodded and ambled off, glancing back uncertainly, as though he expected them to return to the Cauldron with him. Instead, they were having a quick discussion. Harry and Temari wanted to continue exploring the area, while Gaara was bored and wanted to go back to his meditations. He quickly found the owl's cage stuffed into his arms as he was sent on his way, not given the chance to explain that he'd wanted to drag Harry back along with him.

Meanwhile, Harry was making a bee-line for Knockturne alley, which Hagrid had attempted to warn him off of as a dangerous place where Dark wizards did their shopping. Harry had been able to detect the capital 'D' in dark, indicating that whatever the term meant, he took it very seriously.

That seriousness was borne out as, within a dozen paces of entering the area, a stumbling and half drunk wizard spewed out his drink upon catching a glimpse of his face and launched a beam of green light at him with a snarled and mangled incantation. Harry avoided whatever it was easily and retaliated with a casually flicked shuriken that lodged itself in the man's jugular. He fell, gurgling and clawing at the sharp metal, and the watching crowd seemed to withdraw to let him pass.

"Sheesh..." Temari groaned from only a few paces behind him. "You and Gaara... just what part of 'low-key' don't the two of you understand? Not even a full day, and you've already started a body-count."

"If I may point out-" Harry interjected sourly. "_He_ attacked _me_ first."

"You don't know that. It could have been some sort of ritual greeting."

"If it involves snarling, angry faces, jutsu, or beams of neon lights in any way, I'm going to consider it an attack. And note the patch of wall it hit."

The brick was smoldering and cracked lightly where the beam had struck, prompting a grudging nod from Temari.

"Point. So, why are we down here?"

"Hagrid warned me away."

"And naturally, that's like waving a red flag in front of a bull when it comes to the juvenile male mentality."

"Temari?"

"Yes?"

"If I give you a handful of gold, will you shut up?"

"I won't make any promises."

Nonetheless, he shoved a fistful of gold coins her way, which she snatched and tucked away somewhere about her person as they continued on their walk. Coincidentally, one of the stores they passed near was a toy shop, of all things, although the toys would have seemed more than slightly creepy to most civilians. Temari thought they were cute, and Harry just dismissed them with a grunt. Also coincidentally, the gold Harry'd given her was just enough for Temari to purchase a girl doll with wild, chaotic hair, an eerie stare, and a dress that had been torn and raggedly stitched back together by an unskilled hand. The shopkeeper admitted that the doll had done it itself, as he'd nearly lost a finger to it at one point and hadn't dared put a hand near it since, and then hesitated a moment before offering a complimentary doll-sized cage with the purchase.

Not so coincidentally, Kankurou's birthday was coming up in a few days and the doll would fascinate him enough that he'd be willing to drop two or even three times as much money as normal the next time her birthday came around to compensate.

When she stepped out, she was forced to sigh as, across the street, Harry had pinned a humanoid figure to the wall with dai-kunai. Upon closer inspection, though, it became obvious that whatever the impaled creature was, it either had a bloodline of some sort, or it wasn't human at all. It's eyes were glowing a soft red, and the stream of invecture it let loose revealed that its mouth was full of jagged, pointy teeth, with outrageously large canines in comparison to the rest. Also, it wasn't bleeding from its wounds.

"Problems, Harry-kun? Introduce me to your new playmate.... whatever it is."

Harry ignored her for a moment as he poked at the being's nose, drawing his finger back swiftly as it leaned up to snap at the digit, ignoring the damage it was dealing to itself as it pulled against the blades in its shoulders.

"I'm not sure." He decided aloud. "Whatever it is, it seems that it mistook me for easy prey, as it struck immediately after you entered that toyshop. It exhibits definite animalistic characteristics, primarily that of one who has been starved and is going mad with hunger. It could be some unfortunate person with a kekkei genkai, it could be an animal of some sort bound with magics into a humanoid shape and completely unfamiliar with how to survive, it could be a mad magic user that did this to itself somehow, it could even be a lesser demon of some sort. It's actually very interesting."

Temari sighed, contemplating putting the poor thing out of its misery for a moment.

"Well... if you're going to vivisect it, then seal it now and wait until you can do it in private."

"Please..." Harry groaned, but withdrew a scroll anyway. "'Vivisect' is such an uncomfortable word. I prefer 'Research'."

"I'm sure you do. In any case, I'm sure you can look up the... whatever it is, in some book or another."

"Hmm.... point. SEAL!"

With a flash of light and a whoosh of displaced air the thing, and a fair size chunk of the wall it was pinned to, were sucked into the seal and left a huge hole into a storehouse of some sort. Harry quickly tucked the scroll away and left the scene of the vandalism, uncaring of the riffraff that had already begun to gather and peer inside. Temari cast them a glare before following.

xxx

A.N. New chapter! And they still aren't at Hogwarts yet, no.

Toss-up at the moment as to whether Harry will be sorted into Gryffindor or Slytherin... though it really won't make much of an impact, as he's not going to go out of his way to make friends with his housemates. Also, the fine details of the contract have now been hashed out, and the shinobi won't be voluntarily going out of their way to do more unless they can arrange some sort of monetary recompensation. What that means for such events as the Troll and the Stone... well, that will have to be seen.

Tried to keep everyone pretty close to character, but seeing as even the most prominent Sand-nin were second string... and Harry is a curious lad, he's just alleviating that curiosity in typical ninja fashion. Flipping out and killing people.

Faceless, nameless character body count: 1. (So far.)


End file.
